Special Child
by LemonPOPtart
Summary: Summary: The Eppes family discovers that Charlie is exceptional... and how they deal with it. Preseries.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Numb3rs_. I'm just borrowing the characters. I promise to put them back. Even Charlie. ;) This is purely fictional.

Many thanks to my awesome beta, Antoinette.

Special thanks also to elysium1996 for being an ever-willing sounding board

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Alan Eppes sat with his wife Margaret, six year old Donnie, and eighteen month old Charlie. Patiently they waited for the counselor.

They were at the Early Intervention Group. Charlie's pediatrician had referred them, since the doctor felt that Charlie might be speech delayed. Margaret didn't like it. She was adamant that there was nothing wrong with her Charlie. Just the same, she decided to follow the doctor's advice. Second opinions never hurt.

"Eppes."

Margaret got up and took Charlie by the hand. Alan took Donnie, and the Eppes family followed the counselor to her office.

The counselor offered toys to Charlie and Donnie, then smiled at Margaret and Alan.

"I'm glad Charlie's pediatrician recommended us to you. We have a team of doctors who would like to observe him, and do a few tests to see exactly where he's at." She smiled pleasantly.

"What kind of tests?" Margaret asked suspiciously.

"Oh, mostly observation while he is given different toys, asked questions... just to see how he responds. We'd like to do this next week, if that's possible," the counselor flipped through her calendar.

Margaret looked at Alan. He shrugged and nodded.

"That's fine." Margaret said, and scheduled the appointment.

**_The following week..._**

Charlie sat at a small wooden table. A doctor held Charlie's file in his hands. The doctor flipped through it. "I see his hearing tested as normal," he commented.

He looked down at Charlie, and sat down on a swivel stool. He smiled down at the little boy.

"Hi Charlie." the doctor smiled pleasantly.

Charlie eyed him suspiciously.

"Charlie, can you say 'hi'?"

Charlie continued to stare at the doctor with huge brown eyes, but said nothing.

"Charlie doesn't talk yet." Margaret explained.

"He should be able to say at least fifteen words by now," the doctor said matter-of-factly.

"Well, he doesn't." Alan was getting irritated. "But he is very smart."

The doctor didn't answer, but put down several pictures in front of Charlie, of children doing various activities. "Charlie, who is drinking?" he asked, indicating the pictures. "Just point to who is drinking."

Charlie glanced at the pictures, and then looked over at Margaret, and whimpered.

"Charlie, who is running?" the doctor tried again, indicating the pictures.

Charlie stared at the doctor. His bottom lip quivered.

The doctor continued to ask Charlie questions until the little boy was in tears, and back in Margaret's lap.

The doctor left the room. Margaret and Alan were glad he was gone.

The next specialist came in. She looked over the growing file on Charlie. She gave him a huge smile. "Hi Charlie. I'm Alex. Come sit here with me, Honey. Will you come see something really cool with me?" She patted the small chair next to her and smiled at him. She had a box in her lap. She rattled it, hoping to entice him.

Charlie watched her for a moment, then climbed down from his mother's lap. He cautiously approached Alex.

Reaching into her box, she pulled out several flashcards, and lined them up on the table.

"Charlie, where is the circle?"

Charlie brightened, sat down in the little chair next to Alex, and pointed to the circle.

Alex grinned. "Very good! Where is the square?"

Charlie grinned at her, and pointed again.

"Let's do a hard one. Where is the octagon?"

Charlie pointed.

Alex was surprised, but didn't let on. "Where's the trapezoid?"

Charlie pointed again. His eyes sparkled.

Alex grinned at Margaret and Alan. "Wow, he is really smart. You must be working with him a lot."

The Eppes stared at their little son in amazement. "Uh, no, we didn't teach him that," Alan said slowly.

"Oh. Sesame Street then?" Alex asked.

"Actually, Charlie is bored by Sesame Street." Margaret admitted.

Alex looked surprised. "You're kidding! Well, surely he's getting this from somewhere!"

Margaret shook her head. "I have no idea where."

Several other doctors came in to observe Charlie. They even asked Margaret and Alan questions about their home life.

One doctor brought in a large bag, and poured out several teddy bears in various sizes. Charlie grinned, and began lining up the bears, from smallest to largest.

The doctor watched Charlie lining up the bears, and he clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he looked up at Alan. "Lining up these bears in order is an inappropriate behavior. He may be mildly autistic."

"Impossible." Alan told him angrily. "Watch this."

Alan called his tiny boy. "Come here, Charlie." Charlie looked up at his daddy, with bright eyes. "Come here, Sweetheart."

Charlie toddled quickly over to Alan, and reached up. Alan scooped him up into his arms, and cuddled him. "An autistic child wouldn't do this," Alan said to the doctor icily.

Charlie, hearing his father using a tone he wasn't used to hearing, looked over at the doctor warily, as he pressed himself against Alan's chest.

The doctor left.

The counselor reappeared. "We think Charlie would benefit from speech and cognitive therapy."

"He is only eighteen months old." Margaret said. "Most babies only say a few words at this age."

"Mrs. Eppes, Charlie doesn't say anything. We need to work on beginning sounds. Early Intervention can send a therapist to your home three times a week, for 30 minutes each session. We also feel that cognitive therapy would be beneficial, as well. We can have Alex come out three times a week. She can teach him ways to communicate until he learns to talk."

Alan and Margaret looked at each other. "Is all this really necessary?" Alan asked. "He's so little! No baby can really communicate at this age!"

"Mr. Eppes, I understand what you're saying, but at this rate Charlie will only get further behind in his speech."

"He can't be too behind," Alan retorted. "He sure as hell could identify a trapezoid!"


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:**_ To all the readers: Wow! Thank you so much for the nice comments! I really appreciate it!

**_

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_****_Two months later..._**

Margaret Eppes watched as the speech therapist tried to coax sounds out of Charlie.

Charlie sat quietly, watching the therapist with big brown eyes. He was not happy. The therapist gently took his tiny face in her hand. She made him watch her mouth. "Da da da da da." She said.

Charlie clamped his mouth shut tighter and, as usual, made no sounds.

The therapist continued. "Ah-po. Oo-say. Fi-fi. Fa-fa. Fa-so."

Margaret watched as Charlie allowed the therapist to continue to hold his face firmly in her hand. He watched her mouth as she annunciated all the sounds. But Charlie remained silent.

Later that afternoon, Margaret phoned the counselor at Early Intervention. Margaret told the counselor she had hired a private speech therapist. She hung up, relieved. She would teach Charlie herself, she decided.

The cognitive therapist, Alex, came to the Eppes home. She brought a large bag and put it down next to her. Charlie liked Alex, and eagerly went to investigate.

Alex showed Charlie a wooden puzzle. She dumped the pieces out on the table. He immediately picked up the pieces, and within seconds, had completed the puzzle, without waiting for any instruction. Alex stared in amazement.

Alex produced a small bag of M&M's. Charlie grinned and reached out his hand eagerly. Alex laughed. "You are the cutest little thing." She told him.

Alex pressed her index finger to her cheek, making the sign for 'candy'. She gently pointed Charlie's tiny finger to his cheek, and then gave him an M&M. Charlie chewed his M&M. He watched Alex thoughtfully. Alex looked into his bright eyes. He was definitely thinking about this. He suddenly grinned, and signed for candy. He looked at the bag expectantly. Alex laughed and gave him another M&M.

Margaret had been watching. "Why are you teaching him sign language? He's not hearing impaired."

"True. But he is not making any effort to talk at all. I'm only teaching him a few words to help him communicate until he is ready to talk." Alex looked at Margaret. "Mrs. Eppes, your little boy is smart. I mean really smart. He already knows all of his shapes, colors, and numbers. He can solve puzzles I use for three year old clients. Honestly, I've never seen another child like him." Alex paused. "I'll come out a few more times, but he won't need cognitive anymore."

**_Two years later..._**

Margaret watched her small son Charlie, as the three year old played. She had found a box of wooden spools in the back of the closet, and she knew how he loved interesting new objects. She placed the box in front of him, and eagerly he started lining them up, as he murmured to himself. Charlie finally did talk, but very little. Most of the time he had his own language that no one else understood.

Margaret had tried taking him to a play group, but Charlie didn't play well with the other kids. He liked the other children, but they always ended up either completely ignoring him, or bullying him.

Her Charlie always ended up alone, interested in a puzzle, writing numbers, or playing with Legos.

Suddenly, Margaret's thoughts were interrupted, as she heard the school bus outside. Don was home. Charlie heard it too, and eagerly ran to the door, with a happy smile on his face.

The door opened, and eight year old Don walked in. He unhappily dumped his books on the table. "Hi, Mom."

"Hi Sweetheart," Margaret greeted her oldest son. "How was your day?"

Charlie was grinning up at his big brother, but Don ignored him. "Okay, I guess." He frowned. Don sat down at the table.

Margaret kissed Don on top of his head, and put milk and cookies in front of him.

Don smiled up at his mom. "Thanks, Mom." She always seemed to know when he'd had a bad day.

Charlie climbed up in the chair next to Don. Margaret gave Charlie milk and cookies too. Charlie always wanted to do everything just like his big brother.

The boys finished their snack, and Don reluctantly got out his homework. Math. He hated math. Even worse, it was multiplication. Dejectedly, Don started his home work.

As usual, Margaret gave Charlie his crayon box and some paper to scribble on while Don worked.

Margaret heard the dryer buzzer go off, and walked out of the kitchen. Don and Charlie sat in silence, working.

Don was frustrated. He looked at the first problem.

'213x341'

Suddenly, Don became aware that his baby brother was trying to see his paper.

"Bug off, Squirt."

"72,633." Charlie said.

"What?" Don looked at him in confusion. He shrugged and went back to his math problem. Don started multiplying. He stopped, and looked at his paper. His mouth fell open. He looked at his brother in amazement.

"Lucky guess." Don mumbled.

He looked at his second problem.

'123x123'

"15,129," Charlie told him, without hesitation.

Don quickly worked the problem. "Ha!" He looked at Charlie in amusement. "Wrong!"

"15,129," Charlie insisted.

Don looked at his paper. He did the problem again. This time he had a different answer.

"15,129." Don read. He looked down at Charlie, who was now smiling at him.

Margaret walked back into the room. She looked over at Don. "Do you need any help?"

"Nope. I'm finished." Don smiled smugly.

Margaret stopped, and looked at Don in amazement. "How did you get finished so fast?"

"Oh, umm, I just worked quickly." Don looked down at his paper. "I see," Margaret said, and picked up the paper. She retrieved a calculator from Alan's desk, and began checking Don's paper. Every problem was correct. But, something seemed fishy to Margaret. Though Don was very smart, math was not his strong point. She couldn't understand how Don had every problem correct, within just a few minutes. Furthermore, nowhere did Don show how had figured the problems.

She eyed him. "Don, how did you get these answers?"

Don stared down, feeling ashamed. "I'm sorry Mom. I didn't really do them myself."

"Where did you get the answers then?"

"From Charlie." Don looked up at his mom.

"Charlie?" Margaret looked down at her three year old. "Now Don, I will not have you being untruthful with me." She looked at him sternly.

"But it's true, Mom!" Tears welled up in Don's eyes. Mothers were supposed to believe you when you told the truth. Why didn't Mom believe him?

"Don! How on earth could Charlie know those answers?" Margaret was getting upset.

"Show him the paper, Mom! Show him a problem." Don insisted.

Margaret sat down at the table. She took a red crayon from Charlie's crayon box. Charlie climbed up into Margaret's lap and watched her write.

'23x21'

"483." Charlie said.

Margaret looked at Charlie. She checked her calculator. She looked at him again in amazement. She quickly wrote another problem.

'457x523'

"239,011." Charlie grinned at her.

Margaret checked her calculator. She couldn't believe her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**_One year later..._**

Alan sighed wearily. The new tutor was coming today. Alan was having a really hard time wrapping his head around this one. He and Margaret just hired a tutor for their four year old son. A math tutor, of all things. He shook his head.

The tutor arrived, and in no time he was sitting with Charlie at the table. Charlie was usually a restless, energetic child, but when he was with the tutor, he seemed to glaze over, Alan noticed. He watched in concern. The tutor spoke quietly to Charlie, writing on a paper as Charlie watched, mesmerized.

**_Two months later..._**

Don came running downstairs. He had to get to ball practice. He looked at the clock. It was time to go. He didn't see either of his parents.

"Mom!" Don shouted.

Margaret hurried into the room. "Shh! Now Donnie, I've told you before that you have to be quiet while the tutor's here."

Don rolled his eyes. "Geez Mom! What's the big deal? He's just a math teacher! Why does Charlie need a special teacher, anyways? He's not even big enough for kindergarten."

Margaret sighed, and lifted Don's chin to make him look her in the eye. "Donnie, we have explained this. Charlie is special."

Tears welled up in Don's eyes. "So what does that make me, Mom? Not special? Sorry I'm not as smart as my four year old brother!" Don swiped at his eyes. He would not cry. He wouldn't.

Margaret hugged Don. "I did not say that Don. You are both my children, and I love you both very deeply. We do 'not' love your brother more. Your father and I both love you boys equally. But Don, you have to understand that Charlie is special. It's not his fault, and he didn't ask for it. Please try to understand."

Alan stepped into the room. "Donnie, are you ready to leave?"

"Sure Dad." Don said, and looked back at Margaret.

"I know Mom. I know that Charlie is really good at math. But I still don't know why I have to be quiet while the tutor's here. When Charlie's looking at the math, he doesn't even notice anything else." Don shrugged.

Alan grinned. "I don't think your mother is worried about you distracting Charlie. We don't want the tutor distracted!"

**_A year later..._**

Margaret walked Charlie to his first day of kindergarten. She had a lot of mixed feelings. Charlie was her baby, and taking him to school for the first time was hard.

Margaret remembered when she'd taken Don on his first day. Don was so eager. He had turned loose of his mother's hand, and had eagerly ran into the classroom without looking back. It was all Margaret could do to not cry. She'd barely kept it in until she got to the car, then cried all the way home.

Now she had her Charlie. But Charlie was not like her Don. Don was bolder and more sure of himself. Don easily made friends, and played well with other children. But Charlie... Margaret sighed, and stepped into the classroom to meet the teacher.

"Hi, I'm Mrs. Ryan." The teacher smiled at Margaret and Charlie.

"Hi. I'm Mrs. Eppes, and this is my son Charlie Eppes."

Mrs. Ryan bent down to Charlie's level. "Hi Charlie. Are you excited to be in school?"

Charlie looked at her nervously and clutched his mother's hand.

"It's okay. Mrs. Ryan is nice." Margaret told him.

Charlie's eyes searched the room, finally he grinned and let go of Margaret. He headed for the chalkboard. He grabbed a piece of chalk and started writing his numbers.

Mrs. Ryan watched in amazement. "Well, he certainly is good with numbers already."

Margaret looked uncomfortable. "You have no idea." She hesitated, "I need to explain something about him."

Mrs. Ryan looked at her new student. She could see that Charlie was the smallest child in the room. He also didn't seem very social. There wasn't a mother out there that wasn't nervous about taking her child to school the first day. She turned to Margaret. "Mrs. Eppes, let me assure you..."

Margaret cut her off. "I'm sorry. I just need to tell you, that Charlie is extremely smart. I'm not sure bringing him here is the best thing for him, but I honestly didn't know what else to do."

The bell rang. Mrs. Ryan smiled at her. "He'll be just fine. If we have any questions or problems, I'll be sure and call."

This teacher obviously wasn't listening, or was assuming that Margaret was being an over protective worried mother. "I'll be expecting your call then."

Charlie was still at the chalk board and hadn't looked up. Margaret walked over to him and kissed him. "I'll see you after school, Charlie."

Charlie looked up at her and smiled, and then continued writing his numbers.

Don squirmed in his seat. It was getting close to lunch time, and recess was right after lunch. Don couldn't wait to go outside.

He eyed his teacher. The principal and another teacher had come into the classroom. They were talking too low for Don to make out what they were saying. He watched them curiously. Something was up.

The bell rang, and the students started out of the classroom. Don's teacher put his hand on Don's arm.

"Don? Can I have a word with you?" asked Mr. Keller, his new fifth grade teacher.

"Uh, sure."

"Do you have a brother in kindergarten here?" Mr. Keller asked.

"Yes, Sir." Don nodded. "My little brother Charlie."

"Don, can you come with us for a few minutes?" Mr. Keller asked.

"Sure." Don followed his teacher, the principal, and another lady down to another classroom.

Don followed the adults into the kindergarten classroom. He saw most of the students sitting on a large red carpet, listening to a story that was being read. Don noticed movement on the other side of the classroom. It was Charlie. He was standing on a small stool, writing on the chalk board.

Don looked at the adults. "What's wrong?"

"Does your brother hear properly?" the lady asked.

Don looked up at her. "He hears just fine, unless he's concentrating." Don walked over to the chalk board. "Charlie, it's story time."

Charlie didn't seem to see or hear Don. He kept writing. Don looked at the board. Charlie was writing out large problems that Don didn't understand. What Don did understand though, was that these teachers didn't understand his little brother. Don didn't understand the math, but he knew that Charlie was special. Don looked up at the adults. "When he's concentrating, he doesn't hear anyone. You just need to get his attention." Don put his hand over Charlie's, holding his brother's hand gently but firmly.

"Charlie?"

Charlie blinked, and looked at Don. "Hi Donnie." Charlie gave him a grin.

"It's story time." Don told him, indicating the red carpet where the other children were.

Charlie eyed them. "No, I just want to do math." He said quietly, and looked back at Don. "Can't I just do my math?"

"You have to do other stuff too, in school." Don told him.

Charlie sighed. "Okay, Donnie." Dejectedly, Charlie walked to the carpet and sat with the other students. He looked over at Don sadly.

Don looked at the adults. "All you needed to do was get his attention and talk to him."

Mr. Keller thanked Don and told him to go to the lunch room. Don looked over at his brother as he headed for the door. His little brother was staring into space. In his own world. Don sighed, and stepped into the hall.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you all for reading. I am glad you are enjoying this. Thanks again for the reviews.

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Alan and Margaret walked down the hallway to Charlie's kindergarten class. When they walked in, Charlie didn't see them. He was sitting at a small table, writing out a large problem. He was oblivious that anyone else was even there. Margaret came over and put a hand on top of his head. "Hi Sweetie."

Charlie looked up at her briefly and smiled. "Hi, Mom." And immediately, he was back working, tuning everything else out.

Mrs. Ryan came over to meet them immediately. She greeted Alan, then turned to Margaret. "Mrs. Eppes, I owe you an apology," she began, shaking her head. "I should have listened to you this morning. To be honest, I thought you were just the normal nervous mother on the first day of school. Just a moment please." Mrs. Ryan picked up the classroom phone and spoke quietly into it. She hung up the phone, and looked at the Eppes apologetically. "Mr. Jones, our guidance counselor, would like to meet with you. Do you have a few minutes?"

"Certainly." Alan said, as he and Margaret took the seats that Mrs. Ryan indicated.

Mr. Jones came into the room, and immediately he shook their hands, and took a seat facing the Eppes.

"Mr. and Mrs. Eppes, I'm sure you're already aware of Charlie's abilities. I do not believe kindergarten is the right place for him."

"What do you suggest?" Margaret asked, crossing her arms. "He is only five years old. He needs to be challenged, but he also needs to be around children his own age."

Mr. Jones shook his head. "We can let him spend part of the day in kindergarten, but we need to let him sit in a fifth grade class for math." He shook his head. "We had some trouble today, getting him to do other work. But when we saw what he was working on..." he shook his head. "Quite frankly, we were all shocked."

At that moment, Don's teacher, Mr. Keller came into the classroom and introduced himself. He shook their hands. "You have two fine sons. Don is in my class." Mr. Keller went on. "Earlier today, I came in during lunch, and watched Charlie, to see what he was so busy working on. I was shocked when I saw he was writing out the Fibonacci series. I asked him to sum up the numbers from 1 to 100, like Gauss, and to my surprise, he gave an answer in a couple of minutes. He had inferred the right idea on summing an arithmetic progression. It was incredibly impressive. When I asked him to name two primes that sum to 19, he immediately replied 2 and 17. When I asked him for another pair, he told me there were no others, as 2 is the only even prime." He took a deep breath. "Your son is unusually gifted in mathematics."

Mr. Jones agreed. "Charlie is brilliant. He needs to be challenged. What we propose, is that Charlie spend part of the day in a fifth grade class. Mr. Keller's class is not an option, we try to separate siblings."

Suddenly the adults became aware that Charlie had stopped working, and had shyly walked up. "Do I have to go to another class?"

Mrs. Ryan patted his shoulder. "Just part of the time Charlie. You can still stay in here some too." She smiled at him.

Charlie fidgeted, shuffling his feet, "Am I going to be in Donnie's class?"

"No, not Don's class, but maybe a class on the same hallway." Mr. Keller smiled at him. "Charlie, we're almost finished talking to Mom and Dad. Can you do something for me?"

Charlie looked at him eagerly. "Sure!"

"Okay", Mr. Keller smiled at the little boy. "Think about this quietly, while we finish talking. I want you to go find your seat, and imagine a grid of five vertical lines and five horizontal lines. Think about it. No paper now. Imagine it in your head. Charlie, think about how many squares you can make, and how many rectangles."

Charlie smiled, and nodded eagerly. He hurried over to his desk, sitting quietly, and started picturing the puzzle in his mind.

The adults finished the conference, and as the Eppes' rose to leave, Charlie smilingly gave Mr. Keller the right answer.

"He's what?", Don asked in horror, looking at his parents with a shocked expression. "Please tell me Charlie won't be in 'my' class!"

Alan assured his oldest son. "No. Charlie will not be 'in' your class. But he will be in your hallway. He could even be in the class next to you."

Don was upset. He wondered what his classmates would say. Don understood what his parents were saying to him, but he didn't like it. All this attention that Charlie always got was irritating to Don. He loved his little brother very much, but was weary of hearing everyone "ooh" and "ahh" over every little thing Charlie said or did.

Margaret looked at Don. "Don, don't be upset. You know that Charlie is special. Try to remember that he didn't ask for this."

Don looked away from her. "You always say that," he said quietly.

"Well it's true," Alan told him. "Donnie, we count on you to look out for Charlie. I know how kids can be. Just please watch out for your little brother. Will you please just promise me that?"

Don fidgeted irritably. "Yeah. I mean, yes Sir, I will. " Don was sick of the attention Charlie always got, but he was still his little brother.

**_Three weeks later..._**

Charlie sat at the "big kid's desk", his feet dangling, working from the heavy math book. It was fairly easy, and he finished the assignment in minutes. Charlie snuck a peek over his shoulder at the other students. They were fifth graders. Charlie felt intimidated by some of them.

Mr. Sampson was his teacher in this class. He had placed Charlie in the very front of the class so he could see. Mr. Sampson was nice, and Charlie liked being more busy in his class. Mr. Sampson even let Charlie help the other students when they were stuck on a problem. Charlie loved to be helpful. He had no idea why a few of the big kids gave him dirty looks when he was only trying to help.

Mr. Sampson announced, "Pop quiz", and there were moans of protest from the class. Charlie's interest was piqued. He wondered what it would be on. He waited eagerly.

Joe Sampson passed out the tests, and sat down at his desk. He picked up a book he'd been reading, and within moments he was lost in its pages, unaware of what was happening right in front of him.

Charlie felt someone poking him in the back. The 5-year-old turned around. "Hmmm?"

"Let me copy off your paper," the boy whispered.

Charlie looked confused. "That's cheating."

"Well, 'duh'", the boy said nastily. "You let me copy off your paper," the boy repeated, grabbing Charlie's arm and squeezing hard.

Tears welled up in Charlie's eyes. He wished Mr. Sampson would look up, and catch this boy. But he didn't. He never looked up. Charlie was scared. He didn't know what to do. Suddenly he heard another student say loudly, "Leave him alone."

Mr. Sampson looked up in time to see his youngest student released from the other student's grip. "What's going on here?"

Charlie was silent.

"Come here Charlie."

Charlie scooted down from the "big kid's desk", and slowly approached his teacher.

"What happened?" Mr. Sampson asked.

"He wanted to copy my paper."

"Okay. Thank you, Charlie. Go back to your seat."

Mr. Sampson sent the student to the office. Charlie was relieved.


	5. Chapter 5

Later on the playground, Mrs. Ryan watched Charlie, as he sat underneath the slide, with a bewildered expression, looking at a crumpled piece of paper. She walked over to the slide. "Charlie, what do you have there?"

Charlie came out from under the slide. "Umm... a note," he said nervously.

She took the paper from him, started reading it, and then, with a grim expression, folded it up and put it into her pocket. "Where did you get this, Charlie?"

"Umm, somebody put it on my desk when I went to use the restroom." He fidgeted.

Mrs. Ryan saw that Charlie was frightened. She squatted down in front of him, taking him by the arms, and making him look into her eyes. "Listen Charlie, don't let this scare you, okay? Everything will be alright. I don't want you to worry."

Charlie frowned. He didn't look convinced.

Mrs. Ryan smiled reassuringly, and affectionately cupped his cheek. "Charlie, have I ever told you something that wasn't true?"

"No Ma'am."

"That's right. I always tell you the truth. I need you to listen to me, okay? Everything will be just fine." She gave him a big smile.

Charlie felt relieved, and he grinned at her. Mrs. Ryan was really nice. He did trust her.

"Go play." she told him. She watched her student as he headed for the swing. She was worried. The note was nasty and threatening. Obviously from a jealous classmate. She sighed. She would show the note to the principal. Charlie's parents would have to be called. She and the other teachers would just have to keep a better eye on their little prodigy.

**_Two years later..._**

Margaret drove to the school to pick up Charlie. The seven year old now only stayed in school half a day, then went to the tutors.

Charlie was quiet as he got into the car.

"Charlie, Honey, what's wrong."

Charlie sat in silence, looking down. Margaret wasn't sure if he'd even heard her.

They rode home in silence. Once home, Charlie quickly got out, ran into the house, up the stairs, and closed his door. Margaret came up, and found him curled up on his bed, facing the window.

She sat down on the bed next to him. "Charlie?" No answer. She leaned over him, and saw the tears. "Come here," she said, and pulled him into her arms hugging him close. "Tell me what's wrong."

Charlie looked up at her, his big dark eyes sad, and full of tears. "Why do I have to be smart? I don't have any friends." He sniffled.

"Oh, Honey, of course you do!"

"No," he said matter-of-factly. "I don't." He sighed heavily, and looked up at her. "Mom, I've been attempting to find a 70-digit narcissistic number in base 12, but whenever I mention it... they... they all laugh at me. They... they think I'm a freak. Even some adults look at me like I'm from another planet." Charlie hung his head, and his tears fell. "I hate being smart. Why can't I just be normal? Why?"

Margaret kissed his wet face, and hugged him close. She had seen how most of the neighborhood children acted towards her youngest. Charlie didn't mean to, but he, at only 7 years old, talked over a lot of people's heads when it came to his numbers. Margaret knew how cruel kids could be. And unfortunately, some adults too. It made her heart ache, that her sweet, gentle boy felt so friendless and unaccepted. She hugged him close to her, and she blinked back tears.

**_Three days later..._**

Charlie saw a box sitting on the floor next to his dad's easy chair in the den. Charlie realized that it was Don's baseball cards. Don was not home. He was off playing ball with his friends. Charlie squatted down next to the box, and carefully removed the lid. There they were. There were dozens of them. Charlie picked up a large handful of them, and started slowing looking through them. He knew Don would be mad if he caught him. Charlie didn't know what the big deal was. He was only looking at them. He was careful not to mix up the order in which Don had them. Don rarely let Charlie touch his things. But Don's stuff was just so cool... and he was outside. He would put them back and replace the lid. Don would never know he'd looked through them. Charlie was almost finished looking through the cards, when Don's voice startled him.

"Charlie! What are you doing? Give me those! Why are you always messing with my stuff?"

Charlie stared up at Don with wide eyes. "I wasn't 'messing' with them Donnie. I was just looking. I was careful. Honest."

"Stay out of my stuff!" Don said angrily. He tucked the box under his arm and stalked up the stairs.

Charlie watched his big brother go up the stairs. Charlie sighed sadly, leaning against the side of the chair. He drew his knees up to his chin, and hugged his legs. He wondered why even his own brother didn't like him.

Don slammed his bedroom door shut angrily. He was so mad at Charlie. He was such a spoiled brat. He was tired of it. Tired of Charlie. His little brother was, to Don, treated as though he were the "Golden Child".

Don punched his pillow. Wasn't it bad enough that everyone fussed over him all the time, and now, once again, he had caught him messing with his stuff. "Can't I have anything that is just 'mine'?" Don thought bitterly. Charlie interfered with everything. Don was sick of always being compared to him, to always having to watch out for him, to seeing his parents "jump through hoops" for him. The way Don saw it, the whole house revolved around his little brother. In his heart, Don knew Charlie wouldn't hurt his baseball cards. But he didn't care. The cards were his. He did not want him touching them. Don flopped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. At least he would be changing schools soon. Junior High was just a few months away. And then he would get a break from his brainiac little brother. He felt a twinge of guilt. Charlie was a pain in the ass, but Don loved him. If only things were different. Don sighed sadly.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Two years later..._**

Fourteen year old Don sat in his 9th grade English class. He was having trouble focusing today. All he could think of, was that at the front of the school, in the offices, Mom was enrolling his 9-year-old brother Charlie into high school. Don was miserable. He wondered what the other students' reactions would be. How he would deal with this. Don wondered miserably if Charlie would be in any of his classes. He hoped not.

Margaret Eppes finished filling out the registration paperwork to enroll Charlie into high school. Nine years old. In high school. Margaret's stomach was upset. She knew it was because she was so nervous. Charlie was so small for his age, and now he would be around these high schoolers. She wasn't even allowed the comfort of having Don around Charlie, to watch out for him. Don probably wouldn't even see Charlie much, as the school didn't allow siblings together in the same class. Margaret reminded herself that they were doing what was best for Charlie. She forced a smiled as she thanked the guidance counselor.

Charlie looked nervously down the hall as he slowly walked to his first class. He felt like he was going to vomit. As he walked into the classroom and took a seat, he heard snickers. Charlie felt like a bug under a magnifying glass. His heart was beating so hard, Charlie started to silently count the beats, as he tried to, at least outwardly, stay calm.

**_A week later..._**

Don Eppes was between classes, heading down the main front hallway. Looking up, he noticed a guy about his age, standing facing a corner by the lockers. As Don moved closer, he saw that this guy had his little brother cornered. Charlie's eyes were huge. He looked terrified. Don watched in horror as the older boy's fist slammed into Charlie's stomach, making the nine-year-old boy immediately crumple to the floor. In an instant, Don was on the older boy. Don didn't hesitate. He punched him hard in the side of the face, then slammed him against the lockers. "You scumbag! You 'ever' touch my brother again, I will beat the living hell out of you." The fight was gone out of the other boy. Don released him reluctantly. The boy ran off.

Don walked over and squatted down in front of his little brother. Charlie's books were scattered around him. He sat, terrified, holding his stomach, and trying to catch his breath after having the wind knocked out of him. He was shaking, and had tears in his eyes. As his big brother squatted in front of him, Charlie tried hard to blink back the tears. Don reached over, putting his hand on Charlie's shoulder. "You okay, Buddy?"

Charlie didn't answer. He sat there, gasping, unable to shake the fear of yet another bully.

Don put his arm around Charlie, rubbing his back. "Hey." Don said softly, "It's okay now. He won't touch you again. C'mon now. Take a deep breath."

Charlie listened to his brother, and started to calm down. When Don felt that Charlie was okay, he lifted up his little brothers shirt, looking for injury. A bruise was already forming. Don gritted his teeth in anger. He looked down at his brother. Charlie met his eyes. "Thanks, Don," Charlie said quietly.

"What was that all about?" Don asked.

"Same as usual. Wanted me to do his homework for him." Charlie sighed.

"What? What do you mean, 'same as usual'?" Don looked shocked.

"Nothing. It's nothing." Gingerly, Charlie stood, and then leaned over, holding his aching belly with one hand, trying to gather books and papers with his free hand. Don bent over and quickly gathered up Charlie's stuff. Charlie accepted them. "Thanks."

Charlie started to walk off, and Don stopped him. "See you after school, Buddy. We need to have a talk then, okay?" Charlie nodded wordlessly as he headed to class.

Charlie was unusually quiet as the Eppes brothers walked home from school. Walking up into the driveway, Don touched his brother's arm. "Charlie, we either talk outside, or inside where Mom might hear. Which is it going to be?"

Charlie froze, and turned to look at Don. He sighed. "Fine." The two brothers walked to the far side of the house and Charlie looked up, facing his older brother.

"Charlie," Don began, "I know you're upset, but..."

Charlie put a hand out to stop him. "Funny Don. Real funny. You have no idea. Nobody does. This has been going on for four years. Since I started kindergarten. Did you actually think this was something new?"

Don stared at his brother in horror. "Four years? You've been bullied for four years and you never told me?"

"Why?" Charlie asked him, looking into Don's eyes. "What were you going to do? Beat up everyone? Beat up the whole world? You cannot be around me all the time. You cannot beat up everyone. And no. I don't tell. It does no good. They never quit. Telling only makes it worse later."

"Oh my God. Four years, Charlie?" Don was angry and upset. Angry at the bullies who has been so cruel to his brother. Angry and upset at Charlie for never telling him.

Don looked down into Charlie's dark, sad eyes. "Charlie, you have to tell me when bullies bother you so I can stop them."

"Why bother?" Charlie asked, putting his stack of books down and sitting on top of them.

"Why bother?" Don spat. "Why do you think?"

"You tell me," Charlie said emphatically. "You always say I'm such a pain in the ass. You yell at me if I touch anything that's yours. You run out of the house as soon as you can, so that Mom won't make you take me along. Why 'should' I tell you anything? What do you care?" Charlie's eyes filled with tears.

Don froze. He felt a deep shame come over him. Don leaned over & pulled Charlie to his feet, and hugged him close. "I know. You're right. I'm sorry." Don pulled Charlie back from him and lowered his head, their faces inches apart. Don looked directly into Charlie's dark eyes. "Yeah, you're a pain in the ass. But, you're 'my' brother. No way am I letting other people bully you and beat on you. They do, and they can answer to me. You got it?"

Charlie smiled and nodded, as Don hugged his brother tightly. Charlie hugged Don back, happy to know that deep down, Don really did care. Charlie knew that the past four years would be nothing compared to high school. But right now, none of that mattered.

Don's hug eased, and he slid his arm up, crooking it around Charlie's neck. Charlie knew what was coming and he started to laugh and struggle against his older brother. Don grinned, and proceeded to give Charlie a "noogie", while Charlie laughingly tried smacking Don's arm away. "Besides," Don continued teasingly, "torturing you is 'my' job!"

Charlie laughed even harder, and continued trying to twist away from Don.

Margaret's voice called out to them. "Don! Charlie! Dinner time!"

"Mmmm." Don said, releasing Charlie and grabbing his books. "I'm starved. You got off easy this time." Don winked at him. "Race ya, Runt." Don took off running. Charlie grinned, picked up his books and ran in just steps behind Don.

Margaret served her 'men', as she fondly called them. She watched her sons joke and laugh as they ate. She smiled across the table at Alan. He returned the smile, and, with joy in his heart, watched as his sons bantered back and forth. Alan had no idea what had transpired that day, but his sons were getting along. They were healthy and happy. Alan Eppes couldn't ask for anything more.

THE END


End file.
